Dead Space

by Lee Goldberg

  She'd expanded the story in fanfic, exploring the possibility that the God-like creatures were also shadows, plotting to turn all shadows everywhere into sentient beings. Things got complicated when, in the finale, Captain Pierce's shadow thought he was in command. Captain Pierce was forced to beat his own shadow to death.

  It was a harrowing story, and one well worth dramatizing as an episode of the new Beyond the Beyond. This kind of brilliant story telling, with grounding going back twenty years in the universe, would never occur to an outsider like Eddie Planet. Which was why Melvah had to run the show, and run it now. If television didn't work that way, then Melvah would just have to change that, too.

  Zita may understand business, but she obviously knew very little about Beyond The Beyond or, as Captain Pierce said in just about every episode, the indomitable human spirit. Frankly, Melvah was beginning to have her doubts about the future of her relationship with Zita, despite their shared interests and fantastic sex.

  Perhaps it was seeing everyone she cared about dying around her for the cause. First Artie, now Thrack. At least Thrack died on a historic day, one that would ensure his memory in fandom forever. It would have meant a lot to him.

  If she did what Zita asked, then she wasn't just betraying Guy Goddard and Bev, but Artie, Thrack and all of fandom.

  Although Captain Pierce wasn't here, Melvah knew Bev certainly would be. Bev made a tremendous, personal sacrifice to guard Clive Odett. Bev missed BeyondCon, which only comes around once a year.

  Melvah wandered down the corridor to the brig to relieve Bev and break the horrible news to her. She heard the toilet whining and gurgling before she got to the door.

  Clive Odett was taped to the seat, his head slumped forward, keeping the toilet in constant flush. His mouth and eyes were open wide, spaghetti sauce around his lips, a few noodles dangling from his chin. His indomitable human spirit had long since relocated to hell.

  Bev was sprawled on her back on the floor, covered in spaghetti, sauce and mushrooms, a broken plate not far from her body. Melvah bent a little closer, and saw a half-eaten mushroom still in Bev's mouth.

  Melvah left the room, went outside and saw a cluster of decapitated mushroom stalks amidst the weeds, grass, and garbage. She didn't have to be Miss Agatha to solve this mystery. Bev poisoned herself and Clive Odett with pasta and wild mushrooms. How Clive Odett talked Bev into doing something as bizarre as cooking him a meal was something Melvah would never know.

  The most important question now was how this unexpected tragedy affected the universe. She was mulling the possibilities when Captain Pierce drove a Lexus into the landing bay. She ran up to him as he emerged.

  "What happened to your shuttle craft, sir?" she asked.

  "It's parked in orbit around the alien home world," Captain Pierce said. "This one belongs to their leader."

  Melvah stared at him. "You took Eddie Planet's car?"

  "It was the easiest way to escape undetected by their sensors," The Captain said. "I've brought him here to negotiate with Odett."

  Melvah peered into the car. "Eddie Planet is with you?"

  "In the trunk." Captain Pierce started towards the ship.

  "Captain, wait," Melvah said. "There's something you should know."

  He turned around. "Yes?"

  "Thrack died trying to kill your evil double," Melvah said. "But the impostor survived."

  "Then it's even more imperative we get Odett and Planet together and put an end to this madness."

  "I'm afraid that won't be possible, sir." Melvah replied. "Bev and Odett are dead."

  The Captain closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "How?"

  "She made him spaghetti, with mushrooms from the yard," Melvah said. "They were poison."

  "Damn it!" His eyes flashed open, face rigid with anger and loss. "I don't know how many times I've told the crew never eat anything that isn't canned, vacuum-sealed or frozen. One tiny mistake like that can be fatal. Let's hope Ensign Huncke's tragic end will be a lesson to cadets throughout the galaxy."

  Suddenly Melvah saw how this could all work out for the benefit of the Confederation, and most of all, for her. Everyone would get what they wanted, and Artie, Bev and Thrack would not have given their lives for nothing.

  Captain Pierce picked up a shovel. "Come along, Ensign. Let's bury our dead."

  "You have to kill Eddie Planet," she said. "Right now."

  "That won't change anything." Captain Pierce said. "The alien bastards will just replace him with one of their own. Maybe we can turn him against them and destroy the alien conspiracy from the inside."

  "We already have, Captain," Melvah said. "I've infiltrated the alien hierarchy. If you kill him, I will replace him."

  The Captain smiled. "Make it so."

  She ran off. The Captain hefted the shovel and went to the car.

  * * * * * *

  Eddie Planet was squeezed between the spare tire and the jack, barely able to breath. What little air there was reeked of his own piss and excrement — the electric shock opened every sphincter in his body. If he survived this ordeal, the next time he was constipated he was going to stick his finger in an electric socket.

  But as miserable, uncomfortable and scared as he was, he was glad Lexus' renowned quiet ride didn't extend to the trunk. He heard the entire conversation between Melvah and Guy Goddard.

  From what little he heard, Eddie was able to jump to some pretty sound conclusions about his captors, their activities the last few weeks, and their current mental states.

  So just as the trunk popped open, and before Goddard could smash his head with the shovel, Eddie yelled: "Dr. Kelvin is my wife!"

  Captain Pierce paused, the shovel suspended over his head. "What did you say?"

  "I'm married to a Confederation officer," Eddie said quickly. "You kill me, and Dr. Kelvin will bring you up on charges with the high counsel. You'll be court-martialed, stripped of your command and banished to the bottomless ice quarries on ..."

  Eddie's mind was a blank. He grabbed the first thing that popped into his head. "...on the frigid slopes of Brougham. But even that won't be as cold as the hatred in my wife's heart for you, a man she trusted with her life."

  "I don't believe you," the Captain said, wincing from the horrible stench.

  "Fine, don't believe me," Eddie said. "Ask her yourself. Her address is on the registration slip in the glovebox."

  The Captain shot Eddie with the taser again and closed the trunk before the fresh stink could hit him.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  The Pinnacle City promenade was cordoned off with yellow police tape to keep people away from the crime scene, but it didn't do much good. The best view of the action was from any living room in Southern California.

  Fourteen news helicopters circled over the plaza, creating gale force winds and so much noise, people on the ground could hardly hear their own thoughts. Which, in Charlie's case, wasn't such a bad thing. The more he thought about his situation, the bleaker it looked.

  Alison was somewhere on the other side of the police tape, no doubt trying to put a positive spin on events for the press. By now, the reporters probably knew he was the guy who trashed the parking lot here a couple days ago. And they probably knew, or soon would, that yesterday he blew somebody up. She'd have to find a rational explanation for it all that made him look like a hero instead of a homicidal maniac.

  Charlie didn't envy her the task. Then it occurred to him, as he sat on a bench, watching police officers pick through the wreckage, that pretty soon he'd have to do the same thing.

  He wanted to believe that Clive Odett was responsible, but why would he send out killers dressed like aliens?

  And if Charlie really saw Odett being carjacked, who was behind it and where was the superagent now?

  So who else benefited from the deaths?

  Jackson Burley believed the other networks were so scared of the Big Network taking off, they would resort to murder to stop Beyond the Beyo
nd from succeeding.

  Charlie would buy that theory if Beyond the Beyond was already on the air and getting big numbers. But it wasn't. The fact was, most shows fail, and he doubted the networks would start killing people until they knew if the series, and with it the upstart network, were a real threat.

  So who did that leave?

  Eddie Planet came immediately to mind. Charlie was trying to rethink everything from Eddie Planet's greedy perspective, when Lou LeDoux ambled up and took a seat beside him on the bench.

  "I'm beginning to feel like a cop in one of those bad private eye shows," Lou said. "You know, the stupid schmuck who's always running down license plates for the hero and yelling at him for turning the city into a war zone. The cop who never gets the credit for making the bust."

  "Gharlane ID'd the breast." Charlie said. "And you're afraid I'm going to take all the credit."

  "I didn't say that," Lou said. "But since you brought it up, I want to you to think about the trouble you'd be in with the police if it wasn't for me running interference, at great personal risk to my own career, I might add."

  "I have, and I appreciate it. The bust is all yours."

  "What about the movie rights?"

  "Lou, it's all yours. Domestic, foreign and home video."

  "Gharlane really know his tits," Lou said. "He matched the work-up to a woman in a ten-year old strip joint calender."

  "Who is it?"

  "Shari Covina," Lou said dramatically.

  Charlie shook his head. "Should that mean something to me?"

  "It would if you ever watched Beyond the Beyond," Lou replied. "She was the original Dr. Kelvin, the lady with the computer breasts. She was also Stipe's ex-wife."

  * * * * * *

  Shari Covina Stipe Planet didn't go to Beyondcon, a decision she figured cost her a couple grand at least. But she couldn't afford to be seen in her Dr. Kelvin uniform, which would have revealed her bruised breast.

  So she put her time at home to good use. She spent the day watching infomercials and taking copious notes.

  The most popular format, from what she could see, was the fake talk show, with an unctuous host or has-been actor interviewing the huckster in front of a studio audience about his or her wonderful product or money-making scheme. All were designed to fool the brain dead viewer into thinking they were watching a real talk show, not that there was a whole lot of difference anymore.

  Shari took special note of a ballsy infomercial that copied Larry King's set, and even had a Larry King look-a-like, suspenders and all, interviewing the huckster.

  The other format that worked pretty well was the huckster showing off the cars, the women, and the homes he bought with all the loot he made off his product or scheme. The implication being, if you sold ceramic angels or signed up for "900 Ways to Become a 900 Number Millionaire" you could be getting laid in your Malibu estate, too. That format wouldn't fit her needs, but she studied it anyway for salesmanship pointers.

  Shari saw infomercials as the future of her Beyond the Beyond merchandising empire. Coming up with the program would be easy. She'd hire a fat, black lady and make it look like Shari, Kent Steed and Guy Goddard were being interviewed by Oprah. They'd talk about how elegant Beyond the Beyond dinnerware is, how stylish their logo sunglasses are, and what a great decorator touch a cast statuette adds to any room. Maybe she'd even throw in a 900-number fans could call and test their Beyond trivia skills at six bucks a minute.

  She was watching John Davidson on a Hawaii beach, quizzing some real estate huckster about his miracle scheme for "turning toxic waste dumps into quick cash!" when there was a knock at Shari's door.

  She muted the TV, went to the door, and peered through the peephole, stunned to see Guy Goddard standing on her front porch in his Capt. Pierce outfit. It was easily ten years since she last saw him, and probably at least that long since he'd changed his clothes.

  Shari opened the door. "Guy Goddard, I'll be damned. I was just thinking about you."

  "Sorry to trouble you doctor," Captain Pierce said, "but the fate of the universe hangs in the balance."

  That's when she noticed Eddie's Lexus idling in the driveway, but Eddie was nowhere to be seen.

  "There's a vast, alien conspiracy to replace the Endeavor crew with evil doubles," The Captain said. "I've got their leader in the trunk. He says he's your husband."

  "Uh-huh," She didn't want to say anything more substantial than a grunt until she figured out what was going on.

  Shari heard the stories about Goddard, of course. That he was some kind of recluse, that on the few occasions he appeared in public, he only did so "in character." She figured it was a gimmick, and she played along with it for laughs when she last saw him, at a mall opening in El Cerrito.

  Now, as he led her to the car, she gave some serious thought to the probability that Guy Goddard was insane. And if he was, how best to use this situation to her benefit.

  Obviously, the conspiracy he was talking about was the revival of Beyond the Beyond with a new cast, and the alien leader he'd captured must be Eddie.

  "What happens to him if he's not my husband?" she asked. She wanted to know what all her options were.

  "I'll steer the ship into a black hole and shove him out an airlock."

  So, Guy Goddard would kill him. That raised some interesting possibilities.

  The Captain took out his key and opened the trunk, releasing a foul stench that almost made Shari vomit. She saw Eddie stuffed inside, soaked in sweat, piss and shit, wincing against the harsh sunlight.

  "Thank God you're home," Eddie said. "Tell him it's me."

  Shari covered her nose and mouth, and gave it some thought.

  Don't worry, baby, Eddie's going to take care of you. You can be the voice of the ship's computer.

  "Sweetie-pie?" Eddie urged, his voice shaky. "What are you waiting for? For God's sake, tell him who I am."

  "I've never seen this man before in my life," she said.

  Eddie bolted up in the trunk. "Shari, he's going to kill—"

  The Captain slammed the trunk closed on Eddie's head, abruptly silencing the executive producer .

  "That's what I thought," Captain Pierce said to Shari.

  She nodded and backed away from the car. The Captain took a couple steps towards her.

  "There is one thing that troubles me, doctor."

  "What is that, sir?"

  He held up a slip of paper. "Why was your address on his vehicle registration?"

  Shari felt her heart pounding in her chest. You're Dr. Kelvin. What would she say?

  "Captain, if he can replicate the crew of the Endeavor, how hard could it be to counterfeit a registration slip?"

  "Why would he do that?" the Captain asked.

  Oh shit, I don't know.

  "For just this eventuality. Don't underestimate the intelligence of your adversary, Captain," she said. "You don't want to make the same mistake here that you made with the gelatin worms of Kunzel-4."

  He stared at her and, for a moment, Shari was worried. Guy Goddard wasn't just insane, he was homicidal. If he thought she was part of whatever paranoid conspiracy he blamed Eddie for, then she was dead, too.

  "I've missed your wisdom and sound counsel, doctor," the Captain said at last, smiling. "It's good to know that your computers are still in top shape."

  Shari gave him the traditional, Snorkie salute and the parting words: "Be prosperous and multiply, Captain."

  He crumpled the registration, dropped it on the ground, and got into the car.

  She watched him drive off, then hurried back in the house, closing the door behind her and turning the dead-bolt.

  Shari couldn't believe her incredible lucky streak. Who could have predicted that Guy Goddard would emerge from oblivion and save her the cost of a messy divorce? Now she would get everything that belonged to Eddie, free and clear. And she didn't have to do a thing for it.

  With her dual inheritances, she was set for life. She was considering a
quick trip to Las Vegas to see if her luck would hold, when there was a knock at the door.

  Peering through the peephole, she saw her second Confederation Captain of the day.

  Fans.

  Her first instinct was to walk away, then her common sense got the better of her. Someone who'd go to the trouble of dressing up like that and finding out where she lived was a diehard fan. Odds were his pockets were full of wadded-up cash he was eager to spend on personalized memorabilia.

  As rich as she was going to be, she was short on cash right now.

  So, she put on her best smile and opened the door, noticing for the first time that the fan had a friend, a fashion nightmare in a checked jacket, yellow shirt, and gray slacks. At least they both had clear skin.

  "What can I do for you?" she asked.

  "Shari Covina?" Lou asked.

  "Yes," she replied, looking at Charlie. "But you can call me Doctor if you like."

  "I'm Charlie Willis, a security consultant for Pinnacle Pictures."

  "Interesting uniform," she said. "Does your jurisdiction extend into the galaxy as well?"

  "I'm Sgt. Lou LeDoux, LAPD," Lou flashed his badge with one hand, and held out a piece of paper with the other. "We have a warrant to see your boobs."

  She slammed the door, but Charlie already had his space boot in the way. He pushed the door open and saw her bolt down the entry hall.

  Charlie chased after her, taking her down in a flying tackle before she reached the kitchen. She landed face-down on the hardwood floor and immediately began kicking, squirming and screaming. He straddled her waist, pulled her arms behind her back, and reached for his cuffs, but couldn't find them.

  "Looking for these?" Lou leaned down and slipped the handcuffs around her wrists, effectively subduing her.

  Although it had been years since Charlie was either a real or fictional police officer, old habits were hard to break. Charlie got up, embarrassed, and lifted Shari to her feet.